Chapter Five

The boy dreamed. Dreamed of places and faces he should not remember. Dreamed of times and places that frightened and fascinated him. Above all he dreamed of a battle in a rain soaked alleyway. He watched as four people fought against an army of thousands with no hope of survival. He watched as a giant ogre drove a sword through his father, and then sliced his head from his body, turning him to ash. Then the alley changed. It warped and twisted into another alley. There were three people there. A brown haired young woman was kneeling in a puddle, and a dark haired man was trying to hold a very pregnant blond haired woman up.

He stepped closer, straining to hear them speak.

"This baby is the one good thing we ever did together."

The man was crying. His tears mixed with the rain, and Connor could smell the salt. The brown haired woman was looking unsure and rather helpless what to do. Something was wrong. Why was the pregnant woman grabbing a stake?

"Be sure you tell him that."

Connor staggered backwards as she drove it into her chest, melting away into dust. The man looked stunned and heartbroken, but something got his attention. The baby had lived. He was screaming in the rain. The man reached, and hesitantly picked him up. The brown haired woman gave him something to wrap him with. The man clutched the crying baby to his chest protectively as he stood. Then the fire came, and another man with a crossbow.

The alley shifted again and changed, but he couldn't see where he was. He could feel a presence behind him. He turned, poised to face whoever it was. Only to see...himself? It was a scruffier, longer haired version of him, but what caught Connor's attention were the boy's eyes. They were cold and dead. It was like someone had ripped out his soul and left behind a shell. The eyes were fixed on him. "Why do you deny me? Why do you deny who you are?" he whispered.

Connor woke with a jolt, only to find himself with in his room and in his bed. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, but he felt no joy. There was only the cold realization that his life as he knew it was over.

Spike awoke to find himself on the floor in a room covered in pink rose wallpaper. Then, after blinking several times, remembered he was in Connor's sister's room. He sat up, and rubbed his back groaning, "Bloody floor." He looked over at the reason he had spent the night on the floor. Layla lay curled up on the bed with her eyes closed, and breathing softly. She looked as peaceful as a baby, with no trace of the fury that had taken hold of her the night before. In fact, Spike thought to himself, she never looked more serene. A strand of chestnut hair had fallen over her face, and he absent-mindedly brushed it back in place. 'She really is lovely,' he thought. Then once again chastised himself for thinking that way.

Deciding to go find the others, he stood, and quietly left the room. He walked down a hall covered with pictures of Connor's happy family, and peaked in the first room. Gunn was snoring on the bed mumbling about not singing. Spike shook his head with amusement, and headed downstairs to look for Illyria. She was not hard to find. The sun glinted off her blue hair as she sat in the garden with her eyes closed, striving to hear the song of the green. He tapped on the window, and her eyes snapped open instantly turning toward him. She rose in a graceful move, and came inside.

"You have awakened."

"Yeah," he nodded to the garden, "So how are the rose bushes this morning?"

"It is after the noon hour," she corrected. Then looking toward the garden herself, she frowned sadly. "The song of the green continues to elude my ears."

"Sorry to hear that pet. Guess everyone's still sleeping."

"Some. The elder Rileys rose a short time ago, and went to the...grocery store." She looked at Spike with puzzlement over the location. Finding no answer, she continued, "Connor and Gunn are still unconscious as well." She stopped, and regarded Spike, with what he assumed was amusement. "Is Layla still sleeping as well?"

Spike wandered over to the couch, and sat down. "Yeah, bird finally got tired." Then rolled his eyes, when he saw Illyria's eyebrow go up. He waved his hand in dismissal. "It's not what you think. She lost her temper last night, and I guess getting angry wore her out."

Illyria looked thoughtful. "Yes, human emotions are draining. They are uncomfortable and obnoxious."

Spike grinned. Those two were very similar, and yet so very different. Both women did not feel comfortable when emotions were expressed in their presence, but for different reasons. Illyria found them distasteful, while Layla found them simply uncomprehendable. He suspected both also found them frightening, but he would never tell Illyria that. 'She'd rip my bloody head off,' he thought.

Instead, Spike pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket. "Say Blue, do you know how to play snap?"

Illyria looked at him blankly.

Connor crawled out of bed, and dragged himself into the shower. He could hear Spike and Illyria talking downstairs, but ignored them. He turned the water on, and stepped into the steamy waterfall. He tried to let himself go, and feel nothing but the liquid on his skin. The droplets tapped to the floor like raindrops, sending him back to his dream of the alley; to his parents. Awake, he knew who they were...Angel and Darla...and Fred? He hadn't known she had been there, and honestly right now, he didn't care. He started to scrub himself with a loofa, rubbing so hard his skin burned and went pink. Tears formed and ran down his cheeks, but he kept scrubbing until he just collapsed to the floor sobbing.

They had loved him. He knew that now. His mother had loved him. The one good thing we ever did together. His father had loved him. The way he had wrapped him up, and held him to his chest...like nothing was ever going to let him go. But what stuck in Connor's mind most of all was the look of pure venom and hate in Holtz's face. At last after all these years, he understood; understood the monster that man had been.

He knew nothing could change what had happened. The damage of Holtz's revenge had been done, but he had gone on clothed in a cloak of ignorance. A cloak that had been cruelly been ripped away two months ago.

Connor pulled himself to his feet, and stepped out of the shower. Drying himself, he caught his reflection in the mirror. Why do you deny me? It whispered back. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. In that moment, the truth of his life hit him like a ton of bricks. He couldn't lie himself anymore. He couldn't deny who he was and where he came from. He was Connor the college student, son of Laurence and Colleen of San Matteo, but he was also Connor the Destroyer, son of Angel and Darla. Acceptance flowed through his body. It was time to stop pretending.

He stared into his reflection's eyes. "But what do I tell Mom and Dad?"